Anymore
by mrs clark gable
Summary: She manages to take a few steps before his hand closes around her upper arm. Firm, but gentle. She turns back to him reluctantly, hoping to God that she can make it through this visit unscathed... A Lumi oneshot.


**So, when things go wrong on the show I always end up writing a one shot to make things better. This time is no different apparently. In case it's not clear or you don't feel like doing the math, this is set a little more than a year after the wedding that never happened number two.**

She still thinks about them daily. The family that abandoned her, the son she never sees, and the man she left behind. Seconds before she falls asleep each night it's impossible to keep the memories at bay. She wishes she could. Vulnerability is not a trait she likes to possess. She doesn't want to hurt anymore.

She has spent two birthdays completely alone, two Thanksgivings and a Christmas were just as lonely. In this new place with her new start it hadn't been hard to make friends, but they aren't the companions she longs for.

It had taken two months for Will to answer her daily phone calls. She always called at a time when she knew he'd be home, but for two months she could never do more than leave a message. The first time he had picked up she cried.

She wants to ask about _him._ How he is, what he's doing. She wants to know so much about his life. Mostly she just wants to know that he hasn't forgotten.

………………………………...

He lets out a sad sigh when his son's voice brightens. He knew that it was _her_. She always calls at the same time. He can still remember how awkward the conversation had sounded to him the first time Will answered. It was just before Christmas, almost exactly a year ago.

He wants to ask how she is. He wants to know what she's doing. Maybe even where she is. He wants to know if she's as miserable as he is. He wants her to know that he remembers.

He doesn't want to move on, and he still hasn't. He knows there are women who would be interested, there always were. He knows what's supposed to happen, but it can never be.

No one's hair is as perfect as hers. None of it looks as silky as hers felt. He can't picture himself spending hours just touching it. No one's eyes are quite the right shade of blue. The freckles are never positioned correctly and the laughter is never as musical. She always sounded so surprised when she laughed.

There's only a week left until Christmas. On that day it will be a year and three months since he had lost his love. He still remembers how angry Will had been when she left town, leaving behind nothing but a note.

Overtime he had come to understand that his mother needed to get away from this place, but he didn't. He's still angry that she left. Angry that she had taken his heart and his future with her.

………………………………...

It's so hard to say no to her child, but sometimes it's even harder to say yes. With a week left until Christmas, Will has asked for the one thing she doesn't think she's ready to give. He wants her to visit.

It would be so much easier to say no if he had asked her to come home for good, but such a simple request is hard to refuse. She isn't ready to see them. To see _him._ To know that he is there, but be denied the right to talk to him. To touch him.

It's a scenario that has often been played out in her mind. At times ending happily, others not so much. Sometimes she wonders why she gave up. The fight that had always been her strength had fizzled out like the air in a leaky balloon.

She wonders if he expected her to try. Was he disappointed that she hadn't? That this had finally been enough? Will had come to understand her need to leave. Did he understand? Did he care?

………………………………...

The news actually renders him speechless for a moment. Time stands still for a few precious seconds. She's coming back for Christmas. Coming home.

He can feel it all building. Hope, fear, anxiety, anger, love. Every emotion he can't name is fighting its way to the surface. He doesn't know what it means, but he can dream.

Yet, all he can say is, "That's great, buddy."

………………………………...

Every survival instinct she has is telling her to turn back now. All she will find in this town is pain. But her heart won't let her listen. They're inside the house she stands in front of. The ones her heart is aching to reach out to.

Will had asked her to meet him here and she had been powerless to refuse. If only it could be anywhere else. The Horton family's Christmas Eve is a very public entrance, after all. There will be no way to avoid the stares. She'll hear every whisper.

She rings the bell, irrationally hoping that no one will answer. She wants to see them. She wants to see _him_, yet she's terrified.

Alice Horton answers the door, and the motherly smile melts her nerves, if only slightly. There is no turning back, face your fears and all of that.

"Hi, Mrs. Horton, Will asked me to meet him here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, dear. He's told me all about your plans. He's so excited to have you home. Let me have your coat."

With the Horton matriarch's arm around her waist all of her fears seem unwarranted.

………………………………...

He knows she's in the room the second she enters. Her presence hits him like a cannonball, nearly bowling him over. Bringing him to life.

He has his back to the entrance, but as soon as he turns around he knows what he expects. He expects a movie moment where their eyes meet across the room and hold. Hearts will flutter and sparks will fly. They will automatically be drawn to each other.

Instead, their eyes meet for half a second before hers move to a place off to the left. He follows her eyes for a second and he sees their son. Another second and mother and son have been reunited. He knows he shouldn't, but a small part of him, that's actually pretty big, resents the fact that Will is the one with his arms around her.

………………………………...

She's been wondering how this meeting would go since she had met his eyes upon entering the living room. Longer than that if she were honest with herself.

Will had not been prepared to leave when she arrived, instead expecting her to stay there with him. She had been regaled with stories of her young teen's life until he had spotted Abby and Chelsea. Now she stands in the background, hoping not to be noticed.

He makes his way to her determinedly, sure that this is a formality that is expected of him,ignoring the part of him that plans on sweeping her into his arms. When he reaches her, his hands are itching to touch her in some way.

"Hey," his voice is soft and somehow conveys all he feels in that one generic word.

"Hey," her voice caresses his senses in a way he's longed to experience for months.

"How are you?"

His eyes are penetrating her soul and she's not entirely sure how she feels about that.

She bobs her head a little bit, "I'm okay."

He lifts an eyebrow in question, "Just 'okay?'"

"I'm fine. I've got a good job, an okay life. What more could I ask for?"

She knows what she'd ask for. She'd ask for him. And with this knowledge brimming to the surface she needs an escape. Any way out.

"Oh, look, there's Jack. I haven't talked to him in awhile. If you'll excuse me…"

She manages to take a few steps before his hand closes around her upper arm. Firm, but gentle. She turns back to him reluctantly, hoping to God that she can make it through this visit unscathed.

"Wait…" with quiet desperation he searches for a reason to keep her with him. Divine intervention comes in the form of a parasite apparently, "We're under the mistletoe."

"Oh," slowly she looks up at what will be her downfall. It's mocking her with its festivity.

No one can know how desperately she wants to kiss him. To have his arms around her. To feel like she's sinking into forever. But that's not what he wants. She knows that, and so, shyly she leans upward and lightly kisses his cheek.

She's gone before he can react and the disappointment is overwhelming. His hand gently brushes the place where her delicate lips made contact. It was nothing more than a fleeting touch, but it was enough to know that he needed more.

………………………………...

He sees her getting her coat out of the corner of his eye. She's leaving and he's not sure when he'll see her again. She has plans with Will for Christmas day, but that doesn't include him.

It's too soon and he can't let go yet. Somehow he doesn't realize that this is the excuse he's been using for more than a year as he rushes out the door after her.

"So, where are you staying?"

If she finds it odd that he's outside following her without a jacket, it doesn't show.

"My apartment, where else?"

"You still have that place?"

She stops to look at him sadly in the falling snow. The moonlight makes the moment seem endless.

"Didn't you ever wonder why no one else moved in?"

The truth was that he hadn't questioned it. All he could do was be grateful that it had never happened.

"Why?" There is so much that this could mean. The hope is building.

She looks down at her feet and for a little while he doesn't think she'll answer. He isn't sure he expects her to.

"I guess I just wasn't ready to let go."

He wants to pull her to him at that moment. Her softly curled hair has flakes of white shimmering in the porch light making her seem like something out of a fairytale. She looks amazing and so very vulnerable. But something holds him back,after all, a year is a long time.

"Why the cheek?"

She looks up at the seemingly random question and he finds her adorable when she's confused.

"What're you talking about?"

"You're seeing someone else, aren't you? That's why I got the cheek."

She can't stop his rambling. She's not even sure if he's talking to her anymore. He's speaking without looking at her and jumping to conclusions she could not have ever dreamed of. It's impossible to understand what he means, "What's going on? What is this about?"

He looks at her accusingly and spreads his arms, "The mistletoe. You kissed my cheek."

His tone is matter of fact, as if this explains everything.

"And that's a bad thing?"

Now she really doesn't get it.

"Of course it's a bad thing. You give the drunk guy at your office who smells weird the cheek, not your…"

"My ex-fiancé? I didn't mean to offend you, okay. I honestly didn't think you wanted me to kiss you. It would bring up too much."

And suddenly he recognizes the pain she's been trying to hide. She's just as damaged as he is and that gives him a wonderfully demented feeling of relief. Purposefully he steps a little bit closer.

"What if I want to bring it up?"

His voice drops an octave or two and one arm is around her waist in the blink of an eye. Slowly he's inching closer and she's powerless to stop him. Desperately she tries one last time, softly pleading his name. He quiets her with his lips.

His kiss is gentle and his lips are surprisingly warm. It feels like every other kiss they've ever shared, but at the same time it's like no kiss ever before. It is full of contrasts. Soft, but desperate. Sweet, but hungry. Pleasure, but pain. Love with a side of anger.

When it finally breaks, she's resting safely wrapped in his arms and her head is tucked underneath his chin. She can hear his ragged breathing, the reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat.

His soft whisper is carried to her ears upon the wind, "Why did you leave?"

Snuggling closer she counters, "Why did you stay?"

He concedes to her point silently and kisses the crown of her head, "I'll never let you go again."

She sighs deeply, "It'll take time."

"We've got forever."

She pulls away reluctantly to look at him with a small smile, "Forever's a long time."

"We've waited pretty long to be together as it is. I'll wait as long as I have to."

She smiles, touched by the gentle way he treats her. As if she's cherished. It takes a split second for her to make the decision. She offers him her hand. A simple gesture by all means, but a step in the right direction.


End file.
